Reddened
by macisgate
Summary: "Does he always have to hold their hands?" Jane takes an interrogation too far, but it's Lisbon who gets hurt. Jisbon.


Reddened

Rated: PGish

Spoilers: Mentions of Lisbon's past, so Red Badge, but this story wouldn't really spoil that episode for you.

Season: any

Summary: "Does he always have to hold their hands?" Jane takes an interrogation too far, but it's Lisbon who gets hurt. Jisbon.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.

A/N: Just want to say thanks so much for reading! I love Mentalist fanfic. TPTB do not disappoint in giving us writers and readers lots to work with. Hope you enjoy this story. I love reading angst stories, but it's not always my strong suit when it comes to writing. Hopefully, it's okay.

Best wishes and lots of love!

Christine

000

"Does he always have to hold their hands?" Rigsby asked Lisbon who was standing beside him. They both watched Jane through the two way mirror that separated them from the interrogation room.

Jane was indeed grasping at the suspect's hand, while the hardened criminal kept pulling away. He was obviously getting agitated – a fact Jane seemed oblivious too. Or, more likely, the blonde consultant was intending to do.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. He'd been in there for twenty minutes already, which was a long time for Jane. He normally would have announced the man innocent and free to go within two minutes.

"I've had enough of this," she said to Rigsby. She left their side of the room, ready to drag Jane out of there by his ear if necessary. "It's time someone else took over."

Rigsby stayed behind to watch. This was going to be good.

000

Patrick Jane eyed the large, angry man in front of him. "Come on, Mr. Jackson. I want to believe you're innocent. I really do. But you're not giving me anything to go on. Here," Patrick reached out his hands again. "Just relax and-"

"No!" the suspected shoved back his chair and stood up. Jane finally started to look worried. "No more touching! No more trying to hold my hand! If you lay one more finger on me, I swear I'll..."

It was at that moment Lisbon came into the room and saw Jackson looming over Jane. She rushed in to take control of the situation. "Mr. Jackson, you need to calm down, now." Having missed the last ten seconds of the interrogation, she grabbed the suspected murderer's arm in an attempt to direct him back to his chair.

"Just sit down and-" the force of the blow cut off the rest of her words and almost knocked her off her feet. Thankfully, the wall kept her upright, though the back of her head quickly protested in pain as her cheekbone raged as if on fire. She lifted a shaking hand to touch the offending area and pulled it away, mesmerized at the sight of blood sliding down her fingers.

She didn't hear anything more as she slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor, staring at her hand as if trying to figure something out. She couldn't hear anything but a dull roar, and then even the roaring stopped.

She didn't move as two officers burst into the room and dragged Jackson away in handcuffs. She still didn't move as Jane slowly lowered himself in front of her and called her name. She didn't even flinch as he brought his own shaking hands to hold her face gently. She didn't notice Cho bringing Jane a first aid kit and a blanket. She came to a bit when Patrick took her by the shoulders and pulled her forward to wrap the blanket around her. When he dabbed her cheek with antiseptic, she breathed in sharply at the new pain.

"It's okay, Lisbon," Jane was saying. "It's okay."

He kept wiping the blood away, even as she began pushing at his hands, a strange look in her eyes. "Let me go, Jane," she managed to say. Her throat felt like it was swelling shut, the urge to run and escape overwhelming.

"I'm just trying to help you, Lisbon. You have to stay still for a minute. You may need stitches. That guy really hit you hard. The CBI nurse will be here soon to make sure you don't have a concussion."

The logical, cop part of her knew he was right. She should stay put. But the scared teenage girl inside of her was in charge now, throwing a fit to get away from everyone and hide. She didn't want anyone to see her. She could take care of herself; she could...

Not breathe. Short gasps escaped her lips.

"Whoa, whoa," Jane wasn't sounding much calmer. He wasn't used to seeing her like this. "Lisbon- Teresa, it's okay. Everything's okay." He felt helpless, but as she became even more frantic and tried to get away, shaking hard, he pulled her close against him, holding her head still against his shoulder. "Shhh. Lisbon, you have to take a few slow, deep breaths or you're going to hyperventilate. Follow me. In," he exaggerated his inhale. "And out. In... and out. Just breathe. You're okay. Just breathe..."

By the time the nurse finally arrived, Lisbon was much calmer, her breathing not so forced, but Jane could tell by the empty look in her eyes that she was not really present with him even though she managed to tell the nurse her name and the date. The nurse determined she didn't have a concussion, applied some tape to Teresa's cheek, and gave Jane a couple icepacks. She also instructed them not to move for a few minutes until the adrenaline wore off.

The room eventually cleared out, save for the two of them. Jane was now sitting against the wall beside her. They both stared into the empty room in front of them, Lisbon holding one of the icepacks to her cheek.

"Lisbon," Jane began carefully. "I'm so sorry about what happened."

"It's not your fault, Jane," she finally spoke. "You were just doing your job."

"I shouldn't have made him so angry. I knew he was hiding something important. I was trying to push him into telling me what it was. I should have just backed off."

"Forget about it, Jane," she advised him. "It's over now."

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"What?"

"Where did you go in your head just after Jackson hit you? Your eyes were blank, and you were panicky. The nurse said you might be in shock."

Lisbon looked at him closely for a moment, sizing up his worried expression, how much she should or shouldn't tell him. "Let's just say, that wasn't my first time being hit."

"When was the first time?" Leave it to Jane to keep pushing buttons that shouldn't be pushed.

"I'm a cop, Jane," she evaded his question. "It happens."

"That's different," he pressed on. "Those are strangers, criminals that don't really _know_ you. What you flashed back to was different."

Lisbon watched him and decided he'd already figured it out. He was just trying to get her to talk it out. And the truth was that she _wanted_ to tell him.

"My dad... He was big like Jackson."

She could tell her words affected him. He'd been a father. She'd seen the way he was around children. He probably couldn't imagine how someone could hurt their own daughter.

"He didn't hit me so much as he did my brothers," she assured him, as though that somehow made it okay. "Only when he was really drunk. Mostly if I tried to stop him from hitting the others, then he'd turn on me."

"It must have been hard for you, being the only girl in the house, trying to be a mother to your brothers, trying to keep things in order on top of all the typical things a teenager has to deal with. You were very lonely."

"Yeah," she admitted. She watched him rub his eyes. "What happened to your hand?" she asked, noticing for the first time that his right hand was swollen and starting to bruise.

Jane looked at his hand as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh, well... After Jackson hit you, I kind of... hit him too. A few times. The officers had to drag me off him before they could handcuff him."

Lisbon took his hand carefully in hers and placed the extra icepack into his palm. "So that's why the nurse left two of these," she observed. "We're a sorry looking pair, aren't we?" she smiled ruefully.

Jane just shrugged.

"I appreciate you defending me, Jane. But you shouldn't have-"

"Don't say that," he interrupted her, staring at her with an intensity that surprised her. "Of course I should have. And I would do it again and again if I had to."

She didn't bother arguing with him. "Can we go somewhere else, Jane? I need to get out of here."

"How about I take you to your office and bring you a cup of tea?" he offered.

"That would be nice," she accepted. "Just do me a favour and crush a few aspirin into it."

"You got it," he said, helping her up. They were both a little unsteady on their feet after sitting for so long.

Lisbon stopped him at the door. "Jane... I know I must have scared you a bit today. I don't normally react like that. There was just something about the way he... It was just kind of familiar, so..."

"I hear what you're saying, Lisbon," Jane stopped her broken sentences. "You're the same steady rock you always are. Today was just a bad day," Jane smiled at her. "Do me a favour and let me carry out my hero moment a little longer. It will make _me_ feel better."

"Fine," she agreed. "If it makes _you_ feel better. But after tea, I'm going back to work, and I don't want to hear you say anything about me taking the rest of the day off."

"I would never," Jane held a hand to his chest in mock offence.

"And no going behind my back to get Hightower to give me the rest of the day off either."

"Damn, woman. There's no getting past you, is there?"

"Nope," she shook her head.

"Well, it doesn't matter. After one of my cups of tea, you'll be back to 110% in no time."

Lisbon didn't pull away when he put an arm around her shoulders.

She had to admit it was nice not always being alone anymore.

000

The End

000


End file.
